


Jacket

by JoAsakura



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 21:23:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he has is a souvenir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jacket

After 20 years, the jacket doesn't smell like Logan any more. It smells like Remy and sweat and leather. But it still arouses him when he slides the jacket over his bare skin. It reminds him of just a very few nights before they went to the island. Logan's ridiculous, adamantium-enhanced weight causing Remy's bed to collapse under them, and it hadn't slowed them down one bit, Remy, wrapped in that jacket, riding him until his knees ached from the splinters.

Alot has happened in 20 years. New Orleans ain't what she used to be, but Remy's stayed because it was his home and there were things he had to do. Some of which he weren't all that proud of.

Not that many mutants in his city, and he prefers it that way. Keeps things quieter. And despite all the lovers who've come and gone, maybe a small part of him (very small. Nonexistent, really) hopes that Logan will come back here. Looking for his jacket.

But he never does. And these past 20 years, LeBeau's has become one of THE places to go in the city. He doesn't like that, all that much. The high profile doesn't suit him, but the money does.

Four PM on a friday, and Remy's opening up the the bar. The humidity's so high, it's hard to breathe. It's like a lover pressed close, and it makes him want to just go back to his house and fuck himself in that jacket.

But it's a friday night and the rich and pretty and lucky have money to spend.

He slides up the grating and rakes his fingers through his hair. 20 years. For a guy in his 40's, Remy's in good shape. Better than most of the young punks around. His mutations make it easier to stay fit, and mutants generally age either very well, or incredibly badly. But he wonders, not for the first or fiftieth or one hundredth time if Logan is the former or the latter, and if he would recognise remy at all.

"Hey, you got whiskey in this joint?" The voice behind him says, and Remy doesn't want to believe it's true.

But it is. And Remy thinks for one crazy moment, he'll get a chance to stink that jacket up real good.


End file.
